A Fire in the Night
by Four Leaved Clover
Summary: He visited her one night, but now she can't remember his face. They made passionate love, and his smile is in her mind...but who is he? She fights a battle to find him...a fire in the night.
1. Default Chapter

**CHAPTER 1**

By day, Hogwarts remained cheery, and light, bordered with neatly trimmed green lawns, and sheltered by jewel blue skies. Students milled around outside and inside the castle walls, talking affably with each other, and comparing essays, exchanging gossip. It had a warm atmosphere, filled with the quiet buzz of chatter.

By night, however, it was a different story. The fresh blue skies darkened, as if sadly handing on their throne to evil. The horizon faded into nothingness, and the castle was enveloped with light mist. Inside the castle, fires were lit, glowing ruby red against the window panes. Every room had one, including the Head Girl's room.

The room was a small one. It had dark wood paneling, and a carpet done up with in burgundy and gold, that felt soft against bare feet. To one end was a small bed with a creamy comforter folded neatly against it. To the other was a vanity table, which was clean except for an old book placed on its very edge. Beside it was a small table with a jug of water, and a few biscuits. The fire that was lit cast a flickering glow on the ceilings. The room was quiet and still.

On the couch, a young girl of seventeen was sitting. The fire threw faltering light on her clear, defined features- large, brown eyes, a straight nose, and a mouth, bordered with soft pink lips. Normally it was set in a determined line, but tonight it was hanging slightly open, as if she was dazed. Her eyes were wide with confusion and unhappiness. Her whole face, framed with wildly curling brown hair looked upset and perplexed.

A slow _dong_ filled the room. She started, as if jerked out of a strange, unhappy revelry, and glanced at the ornamental clock on her vanity table. Its jeweled hands pointed at 11 O Clock, gently urging her to slip into bed and go to sleep.

'Why not?" she whispered. Her voice sounded odd, and muffled in the stillness of the room.

She crept off the crouch, and headed towards the bed. It was warm, and cozy. Her cold limbs were somewhat comforted by the creamy eiderdown, but her mind remained in constant turmoil.

She tried to ease her thoughts.

_Go to sleep._

_Sleep._

Her mind quietened slightly. The constant buzz of unanswerable questions halted. She felt her self slowly drift into sleep.

The door creaked open.

She was immediately awake. Her heart beat furiously against her ribs. Someone had entered the room. She strained to see, but the flickering light of the fire had died down, and the room was dark and silent, with the faintest of shadows moving against the wall.

Someone kicked an ember in the fire. It died out completely, and the room was plunged into darkness.

'Who's there?' she breathed, fear coursing through her veins.

There was no answer. She sensed someone walking- no gliding, was a better term- closer to her. She heard soft breaths coming out through open lips.

'Who are you?' she whispered.

She didn't expect an answer. The room was dark and silent. Even the breathing had stilled.

She pushed off the eiderdown, and sat up in bed, her eyes glinting with fear. She snatched up her wand from under the table, and aimed it in front of her, where she supposed the person was standing.

A cool rush of breath on the back of her neck told her that he was right behind her.

She whirled around, her sheets rustling, and her comforter falling to the floor.

'Who are you?' she asked her voice louder and more steady now.

For the first time, the figure spoke. His lips opened, and a low, deep voice issued from it. It spoke to her.

Her eyes widened with surprise.

'What the _fuck_ are you doing here?'

He chuckled. 'Language, darling, language.'

She immediately bristled. 'Don't call me darling!'

'And why not?' he mused. 'Why shouldn't I. It's true that I love you.'

'You- you- what?' her voice stuttered to a halt. Her confused emotions stirred up once more, and pounded on the back of her skull.

'Let me make this clear. I am in love with you. Deeply, and irrevocably in love with you. And I want to know if you love me too.'

Her voice choked. 'I-I love you. God, I love you.'

There was silence. Deep, deep silence.

She stirred, cautiously.

No movement. It seemed as if he had just vanished.

No sound.

He had gone.

She felt a deep pang of disappointment. She had always thought that their love would be confessed in a long and erotic dance of love. It seemed however, that this was not to be.

Suddenly, she felt a light breath on her ear, and a finger snaking along her neck. She breathed with pleasure.

Hot lips kissed hers, and she wrapped her arms around his slender neck.

Their long and erotic dance of love had just begun


	2. Her Morning After

CHAPTER 2

Hermione groaned, and shifted in bed. Her arms were _aching_. Her head felt like she had a Blast Ended Skrewt in it, trying to blow its way out. Her legs were numb and tired, and her wrists and fingers felt like they would never move again.

In short she felt terrible.

She opened and eye, and winced at the pain in her head. With a great deal of effort, she sat up.

_Why am I so tired?_

Gently, she massaged her aching wrists, and then carefully stepped out of bed. Every muscle in her body groaned and protested. With a gasp, she realized that as she had stepped out, her sheets had slipped off her bare skin, and she was now standing naked in the middle of her private dorm.

_What the hell?_

She frowned, trying to figure out what had happened last night. What _could_ have happened last night? With a sudden start, her mind arrived upon the simplest solution.

She jerked out of her trance.

_Oh my god!_

Could it be? Could she actually have….?

Her eyes widened, and she froze where she was standing.

_Oh shit…_

Suddenly, she whirled around and raced to the long mirror propped up on her vanity table. She stood in the front of it, and gazed at herself. With a groan, her hand moved up to cover her eyes, and she slumped to the floor. Her base of her neck, her shoulders, her arms…they were all covered by finger bruises and love bites that stood out violently against her white skin. It was fairly obvious now exactly what she had done last night.

Suddenly, her mind pounced upon yet another frightening thought.

_Birth Control!_

'Oh my God!' she moaned. 'What _happened?_ And _who_ was it?'

But she found no answers, just question after question. Finally, she got off the floor, and stepped into the shower. Scrubbing her love bites to hard they began bleeding.

XXXXXXXXX

'Hermione!'

Hermione froze. She was standing in the middle of her dorm, with a towel wrapped around her, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. A heavy hammering sounded on the door.

'Hermione! Are you awake?'

Hermione forced her voice to become normal.

'Ginny! What's the matter? Am I late for classes?'

Ginny chuckled. 'Herms, sweetheart, it's Saturday. Harry and Ron want to have a snowball fight. You coming?'

'I- I really don't feel like.' Hermione replied.

'Why not? Are you sick?'

'Sort of…I- I think I'm coming down with a cold.' Hermione said, praying that her lie would work.

Ginny's voice was sympathetic.

'Oh, you poor thing! A cold five days before Christmas? All right, stay in bed…I'll get one of the house elves to get you something.'

'Thanks, Gin,' Hermione said, sighing with relief.

Six minutes later, when Ginny entered Hermione's room, she found her huddled up in bed with a million scarves wrapped around her throat.

'You look terrible,' she said, complacently.

Hermione sniffed just a little too loudly.

'Thanks,' she said, 'where would I be without you?'

'Without hot chocolate. Here you go. I got the house elves to make it. Drink it and go to sleep…the three of us will be playing outside, but don't you even think of getting out of bed. You have to get better before Christmas.'

'Sure,' Hermione said, hoarsely. 'Bye Gin. You guys have fun.'

'Thanks,' Ginny said, leaving. At the door, she turned around. 'Oh, by the way. I should just remind you. Your potions assignment is due today.'

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. 'Shit! I forgot! My Saturday assignment.'

'You've done it, I'm sure,' Ginny said, not too worriedly.

'Of course I have…but imagine if I'd forgotten to give it in? Anyway, I'd better go give it to him in a while.'

'You do that,' Ginny said. 'I'd offer to do so, but then- it is Snape….'

'Don't worry. I'll go ahead. Bye!'

'Bye sweety. And get well soon.'

Ginny left her room, leaving Hermione to ponder over everything. Instead of going hysterical, she had one main aim in her mind right now. To find out whom it was.

_I don't see how I can forget something like this…something so important._

Actually, she realized, it was quite strange. It wasn't like her to forget anything, and forgetting something like _this_ was damn weird.

_Maybe…_

She paused, and her mind ran over the sudden possibility. It was, she concluded, possible.

_He cast a memory charm on me. He made me forget._

She felt a sudden flash of anger at that person who could have done this to her and then wiped her memory. Well, she would remember. With uncharacteristic stubbornness and defiance, she screwed up her eyes, trying to remember…

Much to her surprise, images flooded her mind.

His hand, gliding down her arms….his lips, soft against her hers…his breath, hot on her cheeks.

She jerked and shivered, as yet more memories flashes before her eyes….

His body, lying warm next to hers, his eyes, flooded with desire….

_I remember…._

_I remember so much….but his face…?_

Eyes screwed up, she tried to remember his face. But, striking contrary to the vividness with which she pictured his actions, his face remained blank and empty in her mind.

I remember everything…but his face….

Something stirred in her mind. All of a sudden, she was back in her sixth year DADA class, with Lupin presiding beside the board.

'Yes,' he was saying, 'A partial memory charm. It is an extremely difficult charm, and we needn't go into the details of how to make it. But, for the sake of your upcoming NEWTS, it is necessary to know its functions. Write this down please- Partial memory charms are placed in order to remove only a part of ones memory. This particular part can be chosen, and woven into the charm through a complex procedure which includes potion brewing, and enchantments. That is all you will need to know about Partial Memory charms. Now, please turn to page 223 of your text book, and we start with Obliviations.'

The words rung in Hermione's mind. Suddenly, everything seemed clearer.


	3. In the Library

**Hey guys…I am SO sorry for not updating all this time- I have no excuse except I've been a little lazy. I've been working on some new fics and stuff…**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**CHAPTER 3**

'Madam Pince?'

The vulture-like librarian looked up to see Hermione standing timidly in front of her. She adjusted her pince-nez and pursed her lips.

'Yes, Ms. Granger?'

'I was wondering whether you could help me find a book.'

'Of course. For reference, I assume?'

'Oh, yes.' Hermione said, 'You see, we- er- brushed upon Partial Memory charms the other day, in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, with Professor Lupin, but he did not tell us much about it. I was hoping…' her voice trailed off hopefully.

The librarian looked suspicious and thoughtful.

'Partial memory charms? That's very, _very_ advanced. Hm…I'm not so sure if we have any books on that.'

'We _must_.' Hermione insisted.

Madam Pince raised her eyebrow.

'Let me check.' she said. 'Follow me.'

She lead Hermione to one of the back-most shelves, and rummaged about. Hermione tapped her foot nervously, looking around. Her friend's were still downstairs, thinking her sick. The library was almost empty. She saw Ernie and Hannah sitting in one corner, huddled over a book with a yellow cover. In another part of the library, Draco Malfoy was sitting, huddled over a book. A pale ray of winter sunshine fell on his bright hair and illuminated it.

She turned back to Madam Pince, who was just pulling a large book, with a blood-red cover from the shelf. It's front cover was embossed with the words, '_Memories through the ages'._

'Here,' she said, carefully handing the book to Hermione. She gasped at it's heaviness. The cover was smooth and cold, and sent little shivers up her palm.

'It's got a large portion on Partial Memory Charms.' Madam Pince told her. 'About four chapters, I think. I wouldn't have remembered, except a student borrowed it just last week to refer the same charms.'

Hermione looked up quickly. Her grip on the heavy book lessened, and it fell with a crash and flurry of yellow pages to the floor.

'_What do you think you are doing?'_ madam Pince screamed, clutching her bony cheeks with her clawed fingers.

'I-I Just-.' Blushing, she knelt down to pick up the book. One page had been crumpled. 'I'm sorry. Did you- did you say someone else issued this book?'

'Of course I did. It isn't damaged is it?'

'No,' Hermione said. 'Uh- Why was it?' Not that I mean to sound interfering but-.'

'The page isn't crumpled, is it?'

'No, no, of course not.' Hermione said, hastily shutting the book. 'Madam Pince, who issued the book before me.'

'I couldn't possibly remember, Ms. Granger, it was a week back. You're sure the book is all right? Fine then- fill in the log book, if you please.'

She nodded, and meekly followed the librarian to the front desk, where she was handed an elaborate owl-plume quill.

'You know the drill,' Madam Pince said, pointing to a large leather bound black book on her desk. 'Fill it and leave. Be careful with the book. I must make sure Draco Malfoy is treating the books with care- his sudden new interest for reading is quite alarming.'

She hurried away, clutching at the folds of her moldy green silk dress. Hermione sighed, and turned to the log book. She was about to fill it in when her quill froze over the page.

'The log book…' she whispered. 'I completely forgot…'

She looked down to the page before her. In neat columns, all the children who issued books from the library ad filled in their names, date of issue and the name of the book. The list ran on for thousands and thousands of pages. In fact, in some of the earlier pages, Hermione had found entries of James Potter, Sirius Black, and- her heart had jumped- Tom Riddle.

She checked around her shoulder to make sure the librarian was busy annoying Malfoy, and then slowly turned a few pages, scanning the list of names. Three pages behind, the name popped out to her- _'Memories through the ages.'_

Inhaling deeply, she placed her fingertip on the name, and traced it along to the name's column. A name stared back at her.

**Who could it beeeeee….to find out, REVIEW and I'll update…**


	4. Noite Dofogo

**CHAPTER 4**

'Hey Hermione,' Ginny said, as her friend walked into the Great Hall at lunchtime. 'How are you feeling?'

'Fine,' Hermione said, somewhat untruthfully. 'I- uh- a lot better, that is. I'm starving.'

'That I can understand,' Ron said, wisely. She sat down and he passed her a dish of roast chicken.

'Thanks,' she said, quickly helping herself. 'How was your snowball fight, guys?'

'Uh- way-shing,' Ron exclaimed, his mouth full of mashed potato. He withered at the disgusted look Hermione sent him, and quickly swallowed his food. 'I mean- amazing.' he ended, somewhat lamely.

'What are your plans for the afternoon?' Harry asked his friends, digging into his salad. 'Ron and I are going to the pitch to practice some Quidditch. We nicked a snitch and we're planning on playing with it.'

'I'm going to Hogsmeade.' Ginny said, decidedly. 'We're allowed this whole week, because of Christmas.' she turned to her friend. 'Why don't you come, Hermione? I need to go shopping and we both need gowns for the ball.'

'Ball?" Hermione asked, puzzled. 'What ball?'

'Oh, didn't I tell you?' Ginny asked, excitedly. 'They're holding a Christmas Ball this year, and all students are invited.'

Hermione thought over it, and finally decided that shopping would take her mind off all the problems she was going through just then.

'All right,' she agreed. 'When should we leave?'

Ginny glanced at her watch. 'How about three?' she suggested. 'Then we can be back well before it turns dark.'

Hermione nodded. 'All right, then. I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall at about three, all right? I'm going to my room to do some reading just now.'

When she entered her room, the first thing she did was kick off her shoes off and slip out off her clothes. She stood in front of the mirror, eyeing her pale white skin, punctured by deep red marks. Her long fingers gently slid across the marks on hers skin, flinching when they brushed over a particularly sensitive part. They looked so guilty, she felt, like they're job was to remind her of something she wanted to forget.

Shaking her head, she slid on her powder blue dressing gown, and cast a heating charm in the room, so it instantly became comfortably warm. She flung herself onto her bed, and pulled her duvet around her ankles.

Her mind began wandering, as she remembered the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she walked away from the library.

FLASHBACK

She stared at the name written in a bold, slanted handwriting on the parchment.

'**Noite Dofogo.'**

'Noite Dofogo?' she murmured to herself, raising an eyebrow.

'What was that you said, dear?'

She wheeled around and saw Madam Pomfrey looking curiously at her.

'Nothing,' she said, quickly. 'Nothing.'

She quickly flipped the page over and signed her name.

END FLASHBACK

She rolled over in bed, and stared at the ceiling. Her eyes teared up. She felt dirty- so dirty and used.

If only she could find out who he was…

'There you are,' Ginny said, as Hermione walked into the Entrance Hall. 'You're so late I thought you weren't coming?'

'Would I ever ditch you?' Hermione murmured, hoisting her large brown leather bag over her shoulder.

'For a book yes,' Ginny grinned. 'And you're even dressed for Christmas!' she pointed a finger at Hermione's bright red tight-fitting polo neck, and light blue jeans. 'All you need is this.' Ginny slipped off the green scarf she was wearing around her pale blue jumper, and strung it around Hermione's neck.

Hermione giggled, and wound it off.

'Idiot,' she chuckled, 'Come on, let's go. And pull your scarf tighter, it's a _cold_ walk to Hogsmeade.'

'Yes _mom_.' Ginny mocked, her face breaking into a smile. She tweaked a strand of her bright red hair as they exited Hogwarts, and stepped into the chilly wind outside. The ground was blanketed with a soft, crisp layer of snow that sparkled in the afternoon sunshine, but someone- perhaps the House Elves- had melted a path to the gateway.

As they passed the wrought iron gates, a sudden thought struck Hermione.

'Ginny…?'

'Yeah?" Ginny asked, looking at the spidery trees, encrusted with frost and glimmering. 'My God they're so pretty…'

'Listen to me. Do you know a boy named Noite?"

Ginny looked at her, puzzled. 'Noite?"

'Noite Dofogo.'

Ginny's brow crinkled.

'I don't think so.' she said, slowly. 'Which house?'

'I don't know.' Hermione replied, frankly.

Ginny glanced up, her eyes a little suspicious. 'Is this something to do with a crush?'

'No,' she replied, stressfully. 'He borrowed the same book I did from the log book.'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Now that's the beginning of a killer relationship. I have never heard of him. He probably didn't want to be associated with borrowing such a nerdy book. and gave a false name.'

Hermione shot her a deadly look. 'It was a good book, Ginny.'

'Hm, sure,' Ginny murmured, absently. 'The snow's so pretty.'

Hermione quickly ran over what Ginny had said. Something in it seemed to ring sense, and all of a sudden, she wondered if Noite Dofogo, whoever he was, had foreseen her footsteps to the library and written a false name in the log book. Someone who could cast a Partial Memory Charm couldn't be so stupid…

They walked for a few minutes in silence. Hermione glanced around her, at the bright sunshine, sparkling on the soft, white snow.

'We're reaching the village,' Ginny said, softly.

Hermione nodded. All around them were little brown and red houses, blanketed with snow, and swooping conifers whose green boughs were weighed down with white blankets. They took another turn down a gray cobbled path that had recently been swept, and whose surface was glimmering with frost.

'We're going to Patsy's Robes,' Ginny told her. 'There it is.'

She pointed with her slim white hand to a small, cosy looking shop, which had been built of out pink bricks. The door was a pale, creamy green, with a large yellow sign hung above proclaiming, '**Patsy's Robes.'**

They walked up to the door, and Ginny pushed it open. A small silver bell tinkled overhead as they stepped in.

The air inside the shop was warm and slightly smoky. It was dark, and a low fire burned in one corner. The walls were lined with rack after rack, filled with the biggest assortment of dresses Hermione had seen. In one corner was a walnut desk with a tall, pale lady with bright red hair and green eyes hidden behind winged glasses. She stood up, and approached them. She was wearing a black dress.

'How may I help you?' she asked, a little curtly.

Ginny looked around. 'We're looking for gowns to a Christmas Ball.' she said.

The woman nodded. 'I have _just_ the thing. My name is Patsy, by the way. Please follow me.'

She took them to the back of the shop, where she pulled out a dress made of pale green chiffon. It was a v-necked sleeveless. She handed it to Ginny.

'It's nice and bright, dear, _very_ appropriate for Christmas, and I think it's going to go very well with your hair. A pair of black platform-shoes to match. Why don't you try it on?'

Ginny nodded, and taking the dress slipped into the trial room. Patsy turned back to the shelf, looking for a dress for Hermione.

'I think we might be a little bold with you, dear, since your hair color is quite neutral,' she said, pleasantly. 'And you have quite a nice complexion- I think you can carry this one off.'

She pulled a dress of shimmering gold from the shelf.

Hermione's eyebrows raised. 'Gold?' she asked, skeptically. 'Isn't that a little- bright?"

'Not at all, dear,' Patsy said. 'Worn correctly, it can make quite a statement. Matching with black stiletto sandals. Why don't you go try it on?'

A little hesitantly, Hermione took the dress and went into the trial room. She slipped out of her jeans and polo, and pulled on the dress. It was a strapless, that highlighted the creamy skin of her neck and shoulders- if she hadn't concealed them, she was sure the lovebites would have shown. It was tight at the top, and clinched tightly, low on her hips, where a fold of golden material hung loosely, looped around the waist line. The skirt was made of layered pieces of flimsy gold crepe. The dress ended a little above her knees. She looked up, and adjusted her hair a little, so a few curls settled at the base of her neck, and the rest fell down her back.

'Are you coming out?' Ginny called from outside. 'I'm done.'

Slowly, Hermione unlocked the door and stepped out.

'Wow, Hermione,' Ginny said, admiringly. 'You carry off gold well.'

'Thanks,' Hermione replied, running her gaze over Ginny's dress. 'That looks good on you.'

Ginny's dress was slightly high-waisted and ended at her calves. The green color brought out the red in her hair very well.

'Both of you look lovely,' Patsy said, rubbing her pale hands together. 'In fact, I suggest you come over here the night of the ball, and I'll take care of your hair and make up as well.'

'That would be wonderful,' Hermione said, throwing her a greatful glance. 'I don't have the faintest idea what to do with make up.'

Ginny laughed. 'That is just like you, Mione. Let's change out. Patsy, you'll keep the dresses for us, won't you?'

'Of course.' the old lady promised.

Ginny and Hermione quickly filled in their names for the dresses, and paid. After bidding Patsy farewell, they left the shop, and left the warm, smoky atmosphere to the cold, bracing one outside.

'Where to now?' Hermione asked, brightly. The dress had put her in a good mood, though something was still nagging the back of her mind.

'Three Broomsticks.' Ginny replied, promptly. 'And then we can head back to the castle.'

**AN This was a slightly silly chapter…it didn't revolve around anything specific, it was just a sort of fill in chapter. And for those of you who actually though I was going to tell you who it was so early- PLEASE FORGIVE ME. That's really not me. I'd rather have you guys panting with suspense right till the last chapter!**

**Please Review**


	5. The PM Charm

**CHAPTER 5**

When Hermione and Ginny got back to Hogwarts, the sun was sinking low, and the sky was blood-red and streaked with yellow, purple, and navy. The snow was looking pinkish in the glow on the sun, and the naked trees black against the sky. The night wind had started up, and was biting at their cheeks as they hastened across the grounds. As they passed into the Entrance Hall, Ginny let out a sigh of relief.

'It's good to be out of the cold.' she murmured. 'Well, I don't know about you but _I'm_ not up got dinner.'

'Neither am I,' Hermione admitted. 'I'm going to get some soup or something and go to my room, and probably read a bit.'

'All right then.' Ginny said, swiftly kissing her cheek. 'See ya, Mione.'

Hermione waved to her and headed to the kitchens.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was standing outside the portrait of a large, grumpy sheep, holding a mug of soup in one hand and a large silver spoon in the other.

'Four Leaved Clover' she told the sheep. It grunted affirmatively, and the portrait swung open. She stepped into her warm room, and looked around her.

The bed was unmade; a sheet was draped artistically across the floor. Her pajamas had been strewn across the couch, her comb was lying under the bed, and a bottle of water was standing on her bedstead with its cap off. On her bed, the large blood-red book was thrown at a haphazard angle.

With a sigh she got down to cleaning her room. When her bed was made, the pajamas folded, and all the odds and ends tidied, and she was back in her dressing-gown she quickly re-heated the soup, and settled down on the couch, balancing the book on her knees. She took a sip of her soup, and opened the book.

**CHAPTER 1- What is a Partial Memory Charm?**

**A Partial Memory Charm (or a PM Charm) is a complex charm which is brought about with the help of a potion, a spell, and the right conditions. It is a charm which enables the caster to ensure that the victim forgets only ONE part of an occurance. This part can he decided by the caster, by the use of a special spell.**

**RECIPE FOR A PM CHARM-**

**Step I: To Prepare a Memory Potion-**

**Ingredients- **

**Syrup of pickled brine cuttlefish (as a medium)**

**3 grams of powdered Bicorn Horn.**

**15 drops of Essence of Orchid Pollen.**

**One large white leek.**

**13 pellets of Caravacia.**

**2 Teeth of a Mother Dragon.**

**Method-**

**Pour the Syrup of pickled brine cuttlefish into a silver cauldron, and heat for thirteen minutes. Stir four times anti-clockwise, and then heat for another forty minutes.**

**Add two grams of Powdered Bicorn Horn. Allow to simmer for three minutes, add the third gram, and stir clockwise fourteen times. Allow to simmer for seven minutes.**

**Cut the leek into small pieces, boil them in water and add that water to the potion. It will turn a deep shade of blackcurrant. **

**Add the Orchid Pollen and allow to simmer for six days. **

**At the end of the six days, add the pellets of Caravacia, and stir twenty-three times anticlockwise. **

**The Potion is now ready. Preferably store it in a dark, cool place.**

**Step II: Mastering the _Averentius_ Spell.**

**The spell is _Averentius_, pronounced, 'Avuh- en- shee- us.'**

**It is to be spoken with the stress on the first and third syllables.**

**The wand accompaniment is a quick drawing of the figure eight, thus: 8**

**Step III: Performing the Spell-**

**The spell may only be performed on a full moon night, or the day preceding it. The caster must say the Averentius spell with the required wand accompaniment over the cauldron containing the Potion. Using a simply Pensive charm, the particular part of the memory which must be omitted is drawn from the mind, and cast into the Potion (It resembles a thin, silvery thread, much like the making of a Pensive). The Potion turns a deep orange color. This potion must be ingested by the victim.**

Hermione gently closed the book.

'That's one hell of a spell,' she muttered. 'It's so complicated.'

She wondered how he had got all the ingredients- perhaps from Snape's store?

She looked down at the page in front of her once again.

**The potion must be ingested by the victim.**

'So I'm the victim,' she murmured. 'How did he get me to ingest it?'

She looked down at the page once again.

**The potion turns a deep orange color.**

Something struck her. That sentence seemed to be trying to suggest something to her. Deep orange color…

Suddenly it struck her.

'My pumpkin juice!' she exclaimed. Her voice seemed oddly muffled in the silent room. 'Of course. He put it into my pumpkin juice at dinner time. And- and yesterday _was_ a full moon!'

Everything was slowly falling into place. She tried to picture what the last dinner had been like. She had been sitting beside Ginny, opposite Harry and Ron. Her goblet had been to the far left, closer to Parvati's plate, than hers. With a sinking heart she realized that anybody could have tipped something into it and she wouldn't have noticed. The orange color of the pumpkin juice would have hidden the potion.

She sighed, and shutting the book put it by her bedside table.

She stretched out her legs, and leaned back on her couch.

_Why would someone go through so much trouble to ruin my life?_

With a little sigh, she leaned her head back on the arm of the couch, and closed her eyes. Soon, she was drifting off to sleep.

When Hermione woke up, the room was still warm. She glanced lazily around and saw that fire was still burning. Her legs and hands were aching from being cramped up on the couch.

Slowly, she swung her legs onto the floor, and stood up. She was still wearing her dressing gown, and on the table beside her was a mug of stone cold soup.

Sighing, she got up, and quickly gulped down the soup, not wanting to waste it. her stomach was rumbling; she was starving.

'Maybe I'll just pop down the kitchens.' she murmured to herself. Quickly sliding a thick white coat over her dressing down, and slipped her feet into bedroom slippers she left her room, and trudged down to the corridor to the kitchens.

Just as she was about to tickle the picture, she froze.

She had heard a noise- a very distinct noise of a footstep somewhere along the corridor. She drew her head back, and swung it in that direction- all she could see was darkness.

'Who's there?' she called out.

Was it her imagination or did she hear a sharp intake of breath from the darkness? She took a hesitating step towards the uncertain darkness.

'Who's there?' she called out again.

This time, she did not imagine it- a pattern of thudding footsteps, growing fainter. Someone was running away from her.

She cursed herself for forgetting her wand. Instead, she raised her arms and blundered into the darkness. The air in the corridor was damp and chilly, even more so away from the kitchen portrait. She moved her hands to the side and let them run along the wall, to guide her. All of a sudden, her fingers brushed across something cold and metallic.

She paused, and ran her hand over it, shivering when it touched her sensitive palm. It felt a lot like a latch.

Lifting her other hand, she glided it across the wall beside the latch, and discovered it to be woody and smooth.

_A cupboard._

Screwing up her eyes, she tried to make out its outlines, and did so- dimly.

She quickly unlatched it and pulled it open. No doubt this was what the mysterious wanderer had been occupied with.

Still being primarily blind, she glided her hands along the shelf, and touched something smooth and round. Moving her other hand from the other side, she felt many such items.

Quickly, she pulled out one, and carefully slipped it into the pocket of her coat. She latched the cupboard, and hurried back to her room. Only when she was safely inside did she take it out.

It was a small, glass phial, filled with a dull orange potion.


	6. Mulciber's Death

**CHAPTER 6**

'You're not looking to well.' Ginny said, as Hermione came down for breakfast the next morning. 'Aren't you looking forward to a happy Sunday?'

Hermione yawned. 'I didn't sleep too well.' she said. 'Where are the boys?'

Ginny grinned. 'They've gone for Quidditch Practice. I'm going to join them in about half an hour- I need to eat first.'

Hermione smiled, and sat down. Ginny passed her a plate of kippers, and she helped herself.

'Did you hear about Malfoy?' she asked.

'Hm…no. What?' Hermione asked, absently. 'Hasn't the Daily Prophet come in yet?'

'It's here. He's broken his arm. Apparently he sneaked out of school last night, and got into some trouble and broke it. He won't tell any of the teachers what happened but it seems to have been broken by some sort of Dark Magic, because Madam Pomfrey can't fix it.'

Hermione looked a little worried. 'He left school last night? You don't think it had anything to do with the Death Eaters, do you?'

Ginny shrugged. 'He deserves it. He's a stupid little prick.'

Hermione frowned at her. 'That's a little harsh. He's suffering, you know, since his dad went to Azkaban.'

'How sweet and unselfish of you to defend Malfoy,' Ginny said, with a mischievous smile. 'Anyway, here's the Daily Prophet, you said you wanted it…'

She handed it to Hermione, who opened it and folded it out.

'Oh!' she said, glancing through it. 'Look at this! They've caught Mulciber!'

'They have?' Ginny asked, glancing over. 'No way! How?"

'Apparently he was at Hogsmeade last night. Madam Rosmerta heard strange noises outside her inn, and when she peeped through her window, she saw a shadowy figure. She immediately alerted the Ministry. They managed to get here right on time. Mulciber was killed.'

'Thank god.' Ginny said, fervently. 'At least that's one down. Hey Hermione, I've got to go now. Quidditch- you know. I'll probably see you in the evening.'

'Bye,' Hermione said. 'Have fun.'

Ginny smiled and left. Hermione returned to her paper.

Her mind was still a whirlwind of questions after last night. She found herself glancing discreetly around the hall.

'Which one are you…' she murmured to herself.

She glanced back down to her paper.

There were a few more articles of not much interest. She put the newspaper away, and took a sip of pumpkin juice, debating what to do today. Originally, she had decided to go investigate the cupboard she had found last night. All of a sudden, however, she wanted to be as far away from her problems as possible.

'I'll go to Hogsmeade.' she decided. 'I need some time alone with myself.'

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She reached Hogsmeade in about ten minutes this time. The snow was falling very lightly, and her footprints were crisp on the ground. She glanced around, and saw that the place was dead empty. She guessed that it had something to do with Mulciber's death.

The Three Broomsticks was, by contrast, looking rather full. When she entered, she noticed that most of the people inside were reporters, all hassling Madam Rosmerta, who was standing at the bar and looking slightly dazed.

'What was your feeling when you first say him creeping around below?' One shouted.

'How did the Ministry officials react to your report?' another cried.

'Did any sexual thoughts come into your mind when you first saw him? A third one piped up.

Shaking her head and stifling a smile, Hermione pushed her way through the reporters, and approached Madam Rosmerta. Her face cleared when she saw her.

'Oh, Hermione!' she said, looking relieved. 'You're the first real customer I've had here all day! Good grief, they don't seem to leave me alone.'

'Why don't you chuck them out?' Hermione suggested.

Madam Rosmerta shook her head, ruefully. 'I can't.' she said. 'They just don't go. I was planning on going upstairs to the rooms and locking the door. If you'd like a drink, you could come with me.'

Hermione nodded. Madam Rosmerta grabbed a tray with bottles and glasses from the counter, and nodded at the men.

'Must go upstairs!' she said, a little shakily. 'No, please move! I have work…'

Finally, the two of them managed to navigate their way to the corner foyer of the shop, from where wooden stairs lead to the upper floor where the rooms were. Hermione mounted them after Madam Rosmerta.

'I have the keys to one of the rooms of the inn here.' she mumbled. 'We can go in.'

Sure enough, she produced a shiny silver key, and unlocked the door, balancing the tray precautiously in one hand. Both entered, and as Hermione seated herself on the bed, Madam Rosmerta poured her out a Butterbeer and handed it to her.

'You don't know how annoying they are.' Madam Rosmerta said, pouring herself a glass and sitting down on the armchair. 'They've been here since last night, asking the most ridiculous questions ever. I'm sorry I can't light a fire, my dear. The grates aren't clean.. I haven't had one in a single room since last week.'

'That's all right.' Hermione said. 'You must have had quite a shock, last night.

'Oh my god! Yes. It was frightening, seeing that shadow. I notified the Ministry immediately, of course. He got killed in the fighting- it was all so silent and sudden. I don't believe anybody else woke up. But you should have seen the body all charred and unrecognizable after everything.'

'It must have been terrible.' Hermione said. 'And now all these reporters.'

'They just won't leave me alone. The worst thing is these Ministry officers- they just came and went. They didn't even stay to pick up the body. I had to have someone over to remove it.'

'How terrible.' Hermione said. 'Which officers came?'

'Oh, I really wouldn't know. Madam Rosmerta said, vaguely. 'There was a tall blonde one. And a short one with reddish hair. A nasty lot.'

'I quite understand.' Hermione said. 'But how is this affecting business?'

Madam Rosmerta looked unhappy. 'Quite badly. I haven't had a single real customer until you. And these reporters. Honestly, the questions they ask! One wanted to know whether the position in which Mulciber was walking suggested that he had ever experimented with anal sex.'

Hermione shook her head in disgust. 'I suppose the question never arose that it wasn't Mulciber?' she asked.

'Oh, _no._' Madam Rosmerta said, firmly. 'The ministry officials recognized him straight away.'

'That's good.' Hermione said. She glanced at her watch. 'I suppose I must be going. I was planning on checking out the new library.'

'Goodbye, then dear.' Madam Rosmerta said. 'No, no, on the house. It was wonderful having you.'

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When Hermione got back to Hogwarts, it was late afternoon. She didn't feel upto lunch; so instead, she drifted towards the library, completely forgetting that she had spent the last few hours in the library as well.

'Hello dear.' Madam Pince said, as she entered. 'Do you need anything?"

Hermione shook her head. 'Just looking around.'

'It's nice to have you. The library's been completely empty. Draco Malfoy's been coming quite regularly, but he's broken his arm.'

Yes I heard.' Hermione said. 'He sneaked out of school, didn't he?'

'Hm…yes,' Madam Pomfrey said, looking disapproving. 'Up to no good, I'm sure. Well, dear feel free to look around.'

Hermione drifted around, glancing at the titles of books. She found one labeled, '_Dark Magic at its best.'_ and picking it up, settled down and opened it.

The first chapter was about something called _Sodmium Caprentius_. She read through it briefly, not paying much attention. She was just flipping over to the second chapter, when she heard loud foot falls. Looking up, she saw Ron rushing towards her, Harry and Ginny not far behind.

'We thought you'd be here!' Ron panted. 'Come quick!'

'What happened?' she asked, confused.

'Ministry officials.' Harry said, thickly. 'They've come to meet Dumbledore. This is an ideal opportunity for us to eavesdrop.'

Hermione looked doubtful. 'Ministry officials…?' she asked. 'How can we-?"

Harry pulled something fleshy and stringy from his pocket. 'Four Extendable Ears.' he said, proudly. 'Don't say I don't think of all. And come, quick now!'

Ron grabbed Hermione's wrist and pulled her up. A second later, the four were racing furiously out of the library, and running down the corridors. They skidded down a narrow, gray corridor that was lit by dim torches, and came to a pounding halt outside a gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office.

'Lollipop Paradise.' Harry said, hotly. The gargoyle slowly slid open, and they slid into the little chamber within. A narrow winding staircase led upstairs.

Harry put a finger to his lips, and the four silently made their way upto the stairs. When the reached the wooden door at the other end, they crouched down, and Harry handed each a ear. They unraveled the fleshy strings, and stuck the ears the door.

At first only a light buzzing was heard. Slowly, the buzzing became clearly defined voices. The first was Dumbledore's.

'I don't understand,' he was saying, calmly. 'Why you have visited me. I have nothing to do with Mulciber's death.'

'That's just the point.' an official said. 'We were wondering whether you did. Because you see, neither did we.

They heard a soft exclamation.

'We were as shocked as anyone to see the article today in the Daily Prophet.' another official continued. 'We had nothing to do with the death. We never saw the body. And we definitely didn't send anyone over that night.'

Dumbledore was silent. Then, he said. 'Are you suggesting interference from my side?'

'Most definitely not.' an official said. 'But as this is close to your part of the world….'

'I assure you my dear man, I didn't. You can take my word for it.'

'It makes no sense.' An official said, stubbornly. 'After all the Death Eaters wouldn't want o kill Mulciber. But that suggests that a third party…'

His voice trailed off.

'Enough!' Another official said. 'Dumbledore says he has nothing to do with it. We have no more work here.'

There was a rustle of robes. The four quickly snapped their Ears back, and scrambled down the staircase.

'Quick!' Ginny panted. 'Pretend we were just strolling down the corridor.'

They passed through the gargoyle flanked door, and quickly turned just as the officials were exiting the staircase, with Dumbledore behind them.

'Oh,' said, Ginny, whose eyes had gone wide. 'Good evening Professor.'

The officials merely nodded and passed on, but Dumbledore turned and looked shrewdly at them. 'I take you just chanced to pass by?" he asked.

'Oh…yes.' Ginny faltered. 'We were on our way back the library.'

'Odd.' Dumbledore said, frowning. 'I could have sworn the library was in the other direction.'

With a little smile, he walked away, his purple robes swishing.


	7. Quidditch Tragedy

**CHAPTER 7**

'So basically the Ministry knew nothing about Mulciber.' Harry said. He was rubbing the bridge of his nose with frustration. 'Where does that leave us?'

They were all sitting in the Common Room. It was past midnight, and all the Gryffindors had retired one by one, leaving the four of them alone. Harry was sitting on a soft pouffee, and absently chewing candy. Ron and Hermione were seated on the couch, and Ginny was sitting on the floor in front of the fire, with her legs crossed.

'It makes everything confused.' Hermione replied, looking thoughtfully at the glowing embers in the grate. 'That means that the people who came to The Three Broomsticks were _not_ Ministry officials.'

'But then who would they be?' Ron asked, frowning. 'It was to the Ministry that Madam Rosmerta messaged, wasn't it? Or maybe-.' his eyes grew hopeful. 'Maybe it was intercepted.'

'It would be easy enough to intercept a floo message I suppose.' Ginny said, pensively. 'She couldn't have sent an owl. It would take days to reach the Ministry.'

'So you're saying someone intercepted her message, made sure it didn't reach the Ministry, and turned up instead.' Hermione said, nodding. 'I suppose so. But the question is- who?'

'Death Eaters.' Ron suggested. 'It might have been them?'

'Why would they want to kill one of their own?' Harry asked, scathingly.

'Maybe they got into a fight with him.' Ginny suggested. 'And he threatened to come tell Dumbledore. That would explain why he was at Hogsmeade.'

'That sounds possible.' Hermione said. She sighed. 'It's so confusing!'

'There's another element.' Ginny said, suddenly. 'I just realized.'

'What?' Ron asked.

'Malfoy! He was out, remember! That's how he broke his arm. What if he had gone to Hogsmeade?'

Hermione looked skeptical. 'You think Malfoy is involved in this somehow?"

'It could be.' Harry said, skeptically. 'I mean, it's a coincidence, isn't it, his sneaking out on that particular night.'

'Malfoy doesn't seem the type.' Hermione said, thoughtfully. 'But then you never know. Oh god, what are we going to _do?'_

'I think she should talk to Madam Rosmerta first.' Ginny said, slowly. 'We can go to Hogsmeade on Christmas, can't we? That's next Saturday.'

'The day after the ball.' Hermione added, yawning.

Ron looked confused. 'Ball? What ball?'

'Oh _Ron_.' Ginny sighed. 'Don't you know? It's a Christmas Eve Ball.'

'Do we have to ask anyone?' Harry asked, looking alarmed.

Ginny giggled. 'No.' she said. 'You just go and dance with whoever you like. Hermione and I are going to Hogsmeade the evening before to get out hair and make up done. We can take the carriage, to avoid the snow.'

'Of course.' Ron said, seemingly haven lost interest after finding out he didn't have to undergo the trauma of asking anyone to the ball with him. 'So on Christmas, we go to Hogsmeade. That's perfectly normal, loads of people do. And we go ask Madam Rosmerta about everything. But for now-.' he yawned. 'I need to go to bed. Good night, all.'

He and Harry got up and left. Ginny and Hermione remained, sitting quietly in the Common Room.

'What do you think of all of this?' Ginny asked, slowly, her eyes on the glowing embers in the grate.

Hermione shook her head. 'He's getting so much stronger. I have no idea what's going on. The Final Battle 's yet to come, and Harry has so much to do. I don't know how we're ever going to manage.'

Ginny smiled sadly. There was a pause.

'By the way.' Ginny said, suddenly. 'I found out about that Noite Dofogo thing.'

'What?' Hermione squeaked looking up. 'You mean- you mean it's a person?'

'Ginny shook her head. 'No.' she said. 'It's Portuguese. It literally translates to "_Fire in the Night_".'

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

That night, Hermione slept in the Common Room with Ginny, instead of returning to her Head Room. The next morning, when she woke up, she was feeling groggy and tired. She showered and changed into her uniform quickly, and then headed to breakfast.

Harry and Ron were already at the table, looking sleepy and feverish at the same time. Ron was devouring steak and kidney with a kind of evil relish, whereas Harry was simply nibbling at his toast.

'Good morning.' Hermione said, sitting down and helping herself to some coffee. 'How're you feeling?'

Harry winced. 'Not so good.' he mumbled. 'Sleepy. And there's a Quidditch Match in the afternoon. I think I'm going to skive off morning classes.'

Hermione looked disapproving. She pursed her lips. 'I didn't know there was a Quiddtich Match today.'

Ron threw her A Look.

'Why do you think we've been practicing so hard?' he asked. 'It's Gryffindor versus Slytherin but I think we have a good chance of winning because Malfoy's in the hospital wing.'

'Oh yes.' Hermione said, absently. 'I suppose you'll bunk all your morning classes. Well, I have charms right now and I can't afford to do anything of the sort. I'll see the bunch of you later.'

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When Hermione walked into the Gryffindor Common Room after her morning classes, she found Harry, Ron, Ginny, Seamus, Dean and Neville all sitting on various armchairs and pouffees, talking and laughing genially amongst themselves.

'Hey guys.' she said, stepping in and rubbing her hands to ward of the cold. 'All set for the match?'

'Oh yeah.' Ron cackled. 'We're gonna pound those snakes for sure, this time. The flying conditions are perfect.'

He pointed out the window, where Hermione could see hot, buttery sunshine falling on a crisp silvery blanket of snow. She smiled at their obvious enthusiasm.

'I hope you do well.' she said. 'but the air's so stiff, I'm sure a gale's going to spring up very soon.'

Ron turned a furious face to her. 'Her_mione. _Do you have to keep making this discouraging statements?'

As they descended for lunch, however, Hermione's prediction came about. Serving themselves mashed potato and steak, the Gryffindors could here the wind picking up, and rain beating against the roof of the Great Hall. Hermione glanced at the Slytherins, and saw that they were exchanging worried glances. Draco Malfoy wasn't sitting in his usual place, so she assumed he was still in the Hospital Wing.

After lunch, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Dean and Seamus departed for the Changing Rooms. Neville and Hermione, after bundling up tightly in scarves and jackets, and carrying a large umbrella fought their way through a crowd of similarly attires students and got fairly decent seats among the bleachers. They were still remarkably early, so they began talking amongst themselves.

'The Ministry's got a lot of praise,' Neville was saying, 'About Mulciber's death. It's strange isn't it, the way that he was killed?'

_Hell strange._ Hermione thought to herself. _Especially since the ministry had nothing whatsoever to do with it. But then of course, why own that up when they got all the credit?_

She forced a smile. 'I suppose. But the good thing is that he's gone. Every dead or imprisoned Death Eater counts.'

Neville nodded. His face went a little pink and uncomfortable and he glanced around the check that no one was listening, leaning forward with a confidential air.

'Tell me,' he said, in a low voice. 'How is Harry?'

'What?' Hermione asked, puzzled by the question.

'Well, he's under tremendous pressure, isn't he?' Neville urged. 'V-Voldemort's just getting stronger, and a lot of people still believe in the Prophecy nonsense. And even without that, everyone turns to Harry for help. It must be awful for him. Is he making any plans or anything?"

Hermione considered it. 'I suppose not.' she said. 'We didn't really discuss this with him, though. Maybe- maybe we should.'

'I think so.' Neville said. 'It might help. He's probably feeling quite terrible right now.'

Looking at Neville, Hermione wondered why this had never occurred to her before. Neville saw her perplexed glance.

'I know just how he feels.' he said, with a weak smile. 'I've gone through enough.'

With that, he turned and focused determinedly on the field, his plump chin turned away from Hermione. She too looked at the field, but her mind was racing.

_Neville has been through a lot. And Harry is probably feeling quite horrible. He has no one to turn to, except us and Dumbledore. I wonder if he's been preparing in secret, without telling us?_

At that minute, she was shaken out of her revelry by a loud booming voice- that of Michael Corner, who was commenting.

'And the teams are out!' he called out, and looking down, Hermione saw that the Gryffindors, with Harry in the lead were marching down one end of the pitch, whereas the green clad Slytherins were coming from the other. Harry was looking tall and determined, his chin set and his messy hair flying about his face. The Slytherins all worse nasty expressions. Blaise Zabini, the new Captain reached forward to shake Harry's hand. Even from a distance, Hermione could see the disgusted look on his arrogant, handsome face, as his slim, elegant hand grasped Harry's rough, weatherworn one.

The rain was pelting down hard, and the wind was biting into the players clothes. She watched them mount they're brooms, and Harry screw up his eyes, trying to see through the pouring rain.

'And they're off!' Michael Corner was saying, his voice ringing with excitement. 'The Quaffle's currently under possession of Ginny Weasley, what an amazing Chaser that girl is! She's gliding between the Slytherins and- oops, Quaffle's been stolen by Howard, of Slytherin, who's moving towards the post- brilliant save by Weasley- Ron Weasley that is, and Demelza has the Quaffle. She's moving- moving, and- SCORE!'

There was a loud cheer from the Gryffindor bleachers, accompanied by boos from the Slytherins. Hermione felt her mind turn off the to the match, and she watched Harry moving about instead. His face was set and his eyes were keenly raking the sky, looking for that little dart of gold that would be the snitch. It would be difficult, though, in this rain. A fork of lightening split the sky above, and sound seemed to be suspended for a second or so after which a boom of thunder sounded all around. Hermione saw Harry wince and continue to search desperately for the Snitch. At the other end of the pitch, she could see Judas Beefers, the Slytherin substitute seeker, flying in lazy circles.

The rain was beginning to pour down harder now. The wind picked up, and began to whistle shrilly as it blew between the bleachers. Hermione shuddered and pulled her coat tighter around herself. Beside her, Neville's teeth were chattering.

'It's c-cold,' he spluttered. 'D-do you th-think they'll b-be ok-okay?'

Hermione felt a pang of worry.

'They'll be fine,' she said, assuringly. 'They're experienced.'

She glanced back at the pitch, her eyes scanning it for Harry and Ron. Ron was wavering near the hoops- his broom was being tossed a bit in the wind. Harry had circled much, much higher, but was under the cloud cover, and had to bear the brunt of the cold, stinging water. He was inscribing tight circles around the pitch, keeping one eye on Beefers, who was lower to the ground. Ginny she found darting in between other chasers, her lithe form balancing easily on the broom- but the strain of the wind was getting to her, Hermione noticed. More than once she carelessly dropped the Quaffle. Michael Corner was still commenting, but his voice was fainter, and over sheathed by the lashing of the rain and the shrillness of the wind.

'The Quaffle's with- with Demelza again.' he was saying. 'She's flying towards the hoops- the winds getting to her, her brooms shaking- and- and SCORE. It's 150-120, Gryffindor. Howard has the Quaffle again, but- Wait! Looks like Beefers has seen something!'

Both Neville and Hermione immediately focused on Beefers. He was flying straight towards something, leaning forward on his broom. Looking up, Hermione saw that Harry had just noticed. He had immediately pulled in for a steep dive.

'Oh god,' Hermione whispered. 'I hope he makes it!'

'Of course he will!'

'Neville, look at the angle of his descent!'

It was indeed a scary one. Harry was almost vertical as he rocketed towards the ground. He was catching up with Beefers now- he was at his ankles…he was passing his shoulders, and-

WHAM.

Out of nowhere, it seemed, a greenish blur appeared, and slammed into Harry. He uttered a cry that was broken midway, and toppled off his broom. He clutched desperately for the handle as it flew above him, but for no avail- he was plummeting towards the Earth.

Ginny and Ron immediately left their posts and streaked towards him, but it was too late- Harry fell straight to the ground, landing in a puddle that send a glittering, polished curve of water into the air. He lay motionless.

Hermione and Neville, along with almost all the Gryffindors, were on their feet almost immediately, rushing towards the pitch. The entire team had landed, and were trying to pick him up. They heard him cry out in pain.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Madam Pomfrey came out of the cubicle, swishing the white curtains behind her. Her plump frame was enveloped in white robes and a pink and white striped apron.

'How is he?' Ginny almost screamed, jumping up.

'What happened to him?' Ron choked. He had swallowed a whole lot of rainwater, and his throat was still waterlogged.

'Is he going to be all right?' Hermione asked, anxiously.

Madam Pomfrey held a fat finger to her lips.

'Sh,' she said, 'He had broken a few bones, and had some internal injuries plus some superficial ones. The bruises etcetera I took care of, but he needs to spend three or four nights in the hospital wing. I'm going to have to ask two of you to leave. Only one can stay here.'

'I will,' Ron, Hermione and Ginny said, immediately.

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow.

'Oh h-hell.' Ron said, suddenly, his throat spasming. 'I just remembered. I have that bloody essay to complete for Flitwick. Doesn't he get I don't give Charms a flying fu-u- fudge?' he finished quickly, seeing the look on Madam Pomfrey's face.

Ginny groaned. 'Oh my god, I have work too.' she said, wincing. 'I suppose you'll have to stay, Mione.'

'I'll be fine.' Hermione said. 'Don't worry. You two go along.'

'You sure you'll be okay?' Ron asked.

'I'll be _fine_ Ron. Unlike both of you, I've actually finished my homework, you know.'

'Yes, yes, of course.' Ron said, hastily, trying to ward off a 'You-and-you-homework-need-drastic-improvement' lecture. 'Come on Gin. Hermione, we'll come and check up later, okay?' he kissed her cheek. 'See ya.'

'Bye, Hermione.' Ginny said.

The two of them left, and Madam Pomfrey re-entered the room.

'Oh, hello dear.' she said, absently. 'You got voted to stay back, I see. Well, I must scurry, I have plenty of things to do. Just come in, and I'll tell you what to do in case he waked up.'

She pulled her into the cubicle. Harry was lying on the bed, under a sheet. He was sleeping peacefully. Madam Pomfrey pointed to an array of glass phials on the bedstead.

'If he wakes up,' she said, 'And he's in pain, give him that light pink, frothy one. If he's complaining of bad dreams give him the green one, but _don't_ wake him up just to give it. If his head's paining, you better force that orange one down his throat, I don't care of it burns him, it's good. You'll stay here, won't you? There are a few books in that little shelf there, to keep you occupied. Now, I'm running down to Mungo's, I have some work to take care of. The other patients are due to wake up tomorrow morning- as long as they've taken their medicine properly. Goodbye, dearie.'

She bustled out of the cubicle. As the curtains swished back and forth, Hermione caught a glimpse of her in a pink lace cap, powdering her nose in front of the far mirror.

Hermione sighed, and leaned back. She slid her gaze over to Harry. His face looked so calm, and peaceful. She felt a sudden flash of anger towards Zabini, who had purposely collided into him.

She walked over to the shelf, and rummaged among the books there. Finding a Wodehouse which she particularly fond of, she slid back into her seat, and began reading it, glancing every now and then at Harry's serene face.

The clock in the Wing ticked loudly, and the sound embedded itself into her mind. Subconsciously, she marked in the ticks in her mind.

_Tick….tick….tick….tick….tick…._

She turned a page, and heard it rustle loudly in the silent room. She glanced up at Harry. he had flung a hand over his head, and his hair was even more rumpled than usual, standing out dark against the pale whiteness of the Hospital Wing sheets.

_Tick…tick…tick….tick…tick…_

Hermione's eyes began to droop, as she turned yet another page. She was so tired, so sleepy. The words began to blur in front of her, swimming together and turning into a black jumble of letters. She felt her head nod, and finally slump onto her lap, rendering deep discomfort to her neck, which was oddly twisted. Her eyes closed softly, and she welcomed the darkness, wrapping her arms around her messy curls as if to lull her painful head to sleep slowly. All the while, the clock ticked in her mind.

_Tick…tick….tick…tick…tick…_

When Hermione woke, the Hospital Wing was darker, and the lanterns were lit. She straightened up and winced as her neck protested. She gently flattened her palms against it, trying to massage it into a more comfortable state. The book on her fell to the floor, and she stooped to pick it up, noticing with a pang that the pages were crumpled. Immediately abandoning her neck she smoothened out the pages to the best of her ability, and then replacing the book glanced at Harry. He was on his tummy now, and still fast asleep. She wondered idly what it had been that had woken her.

A noise, from one of the other cubicles.

Immediately, she straightened up. Madam Pomfrey's words came back to her.

'_The other patients are due to wake up tomorrow- as long as they've taken their medicine properly.'_

Who was it,' she mused, who had not taken his medicine properly. She quickly got up, and drew back the curtains to Harry's cubicle.

Nothing.

Exiting the cubicle, she walked down the length of the Hospital Wing, taking care to walk softly. As she passed the last cubicle, she heard movements from inside. Stiffening, she gripped the curtain, and drew it back.

The problem was, once she did, she saw a very startled and a very naked Malfoy staring back at her.

**AN- So that's the end of another chapter, and I'm so sorry I didn't update earlier, I've been a lazy pig, I know …and for those of you who want to know exactly what a PG Wodehouse was doing in the Hospital Wing when it is so clearly a Muggle book, well wizards do read Muggle books every now and then.**

**Thanks to all those of you who reviewed. I promise the next chapter will come up faster. **


	8. A Interesting Conversation

**CHAPTER 8**

The next few seconds can be appropriately describes as 'extreme discomfort.'

Both Hermione and Malfoy were frozen. Hermione stood dumbly, her mouth open and her hands gripping the curtains, shock inscribed on her face, whereas Malfoy stood beside the bed, in all his glory, his mouth hanging open.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement. Hermione whirled around, flinging her hands up around her eyes, and Malfoy struggled to untangle a sheet on the bed to wrap around himself. Still with her back turned to him, Hermione heard the sheet rustling furiously.

'_Fuck _you Granger.' Malfoy snapped. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

'Shut up Malfoy!' Hermione snapped back, without turning. 'What the hell do you think _you're_ doing? You're supposed to be in bed, and more importantly, with your clothes on!'

Malfoy smirked, but since she had her back turned to him she didn't see. 'I don't remember asking you to come peeping into my cubicle.' he said.

Hermione scowled. 'I heard noises, and since Madam Pomfrey told me that everyone should be sleeping till tomorrow morning-.' she paused. 'So you didn't take your medicine.'

'What Pomfrey doesn't know won't hurt her.' Malfoy said, curtly. 'You can turn around now. There's no need to act like your facing a basilisk.'

'In the current circumstances, that would be welcome.' Hermione said, sadistically, letting her arms fall and turning around. Malfoy stood in front of her, a sheet strung across his hips toga-style. Hermione found herself looking at him with displeasure. He was looking even worse than usual- his flat, greasy hair and narrow body giving him the appearance of a drowned rat. He had circles under his eyes, and he had lost a bit too much weight. His body was narrow and spindly, and she decided that he hadn't been anywhere near food for a hundred years.

'So what are you doing here?' Malfoy asked, sitting down on the bed. 'In the Hospital Wing, I mean?'

'Harry got injured during Quidditch.' Hermione said, coldly. 'I'm got voted to stay here tonight.'

'Potter got injured at Quidditch? Anything serious?' he looked hopefully at her.

'No!' Hermione lashed out, furiously. 'He'd be perfectly fine if Zabini _you're _pathetic friend hadn't purposely collided into him!'

Malfoy appeared to digest this information. Finally, he said, 'I always thought Blaise had brains.'

Hermione drew herself up to her full height, which stood at a grand 5 foot 2. Malfoy, who towered somewhat impressibly over her, smirked.

'You Slytherins.' Hermione said, coldly, 'Are all the same. Sniveling, sneaky little brats!'

Malfoy shook his head. 'Really, Granger, you're being immature.'

'Shut up you white-headed fool.'

'Snappy.' Malfoy said, approvingly. 'very snappy. It's good to see seven years under my towering presence hasn't dampened your sarcasm.'

'You're presence isn't towering Malfoy. It's minute and inconsequential.'

'In front of you? I think not. Have you seen how short you are, Granger? You're what- three feet tall?'

Hermione glared at him. 'Shut up Malfoy.' she said, finally.

'Oooooh…witty and original.' Malfoy said, with a grin. 'Oh all right, I'll lay off you a bit. Sit down.'

Hermione, who had been about to make a haughty exit, paused. 'What?'

'I said sit down. It involves bending your knees, and-.'

'I know how to sit down! I was just wondering what caused you to labor under the delusion that I'd like to sit down with you.'

'To talk maybe.' Malfoy said, mildly.

'I don't want to talk to you either.'

'Come on Granger, there's no one else around and quite frankly I'm bored.'

'And naked.'

'That is a matter of no consequence.'

'I must get back to Harry,' Hermione said, stiffly. 'He-.'

'Has been rendered unconscious and is probably not at his conversational best.'

'There are better people to talk to than _you._'

'Are you referring to that chair in the corner?'

'I meant that even a half-dead Harry is better than you!'

'Oh, so he's half dead is he?' Malfoy asked, with new interest. 'That sound's encouraging. Any chance of his slipping into a slow, but torturous coma?"

Hermione drew herself up stiffly. 'Goodbye Malfoy.'

Malfoy laughed. 'Oh come on Granger I was just joking. Sit down I'm in desperate need of company.'

Hermione was about to snap at him and depart when she paused. An idea struck her.

'All right!' she said, finally. 'I'll sit.'

'Good for you.' Malfoy said, politely.

Glaring at him, Hermione perched herself gingerly on the edge of the little chair in the cubicle.

'You don't need to sit like half your butt's being ravaged by septic nails, you know.' Malfoy said, conversationally. 'The whole chair's yours.'

With a stiff glance his way, Hermione adjusted herself on the seat. She scowled at him.

'Do you know how ugly you look when you do that?' Malfoy asked, politely.

Hermione wiped the scowl off quickly. 'You're a good person talking Malfoy! You look like a string bean!'

'Tell me is it static electricity that makes your hair stand up like that?'

'My hair's fine.' she said, hotly, smoothing it down.

'It reminds me of something. I can't put my finger on it. But honestly, if it wasn't for the hair and the scowl you could be much more passable. You have a decent face- nice eyes- you're a little thin though.'

'Malfoy, I-.'

'But your feet.' he grimaced. 'They're- well, small. What size are you three?"

'I don't see how my feet are any of your business/' Hermione snapped.

'I suppose they aren't.'

'They aren't. I don't like my appearance being commented on. NO DON'T SAY ANYTHING.'

Malfoy shut his mouth. 'You better watch it Granger, your voice is loud.'

'There's no one in the hospital wing right now. In fact…' she paused. 'May I know whether you were planning an- uh- escape just now?'

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow at her. 'You think I was slinking off.'

'It wouldn't be a first time would it?'

'Wounding, Granger, very wounding.'

'Well, how did you break you arm then?'

A sudden change came over his expression. His eye's darkened, his mouth twisted slightly. Hermione looked keenly on, hoping for any sign as to-

'I get it.' Malfoy said, abruptly. 'That's why you stayed. To pump me about where I was.'

Hermione looked a little taken aback. 'I-.'

'Don't lie, I know it wasn't for my winning personality.'

'Seriously Malfoy. You can just tell me, you know.'

'Why Granger?' Malfoy asked, with wide eyes. 'because we're such close friends and I always confide in you.'

'What about your arm?' Hermione asked, glancing at the sling. 'Ginny said that Madam Pomfrey can't heal it.'

'Who's Ginny?'

'Ginny Weasley.'

'Oh, the Weaslette. She's ugly.'

'No she's not!'

'Don't you think so? I know she's terribly popular but for god's sake have you seen her nose?'

Hermione breathed deeply, trying to balance her temper. 'It was Dark Magic, then, that did that to your arm?'

Malfoy face darkened slightly. 'yes.' he said, abruptly. 'But I'm not going to tell anyone, so I suggest you stop trying.'

Hermione flushed. 'I think you're being stupid.'

'Thank you Granger. I think you should get back to Potter now, he's probably pining for you.'

Hermione stood up, angrily. 'Fine.' she snapped. 'I'll go.'

'Please do. I'm tired and I want to go to sleep. And try not to peep into my cubicle next time.'

'Malfoy I'd prefer to see the Giant Squid's genitals to yours!'

Malfoy laughed softly. 'You know Granger. You're not all that bad.'


End file.
